End of the Line
by samcallaghan
Summary: When Team One responds to a call about at-risk teenagers, they realize there is more to the situation than what meets the eye. Establishing connection, maintaining respect and protecting the teenagers isn't going to be a walk in the park, but when is it ever that simple for the SRU?
1. Chapter 1

"Don't come any closer! I'll do it, I swear I'll do it!" Sebastian yells.

"Okay, I believe you man, just breathe," Zack calmly responds as his friend continues to wave the gun. Seb's breaths are uneven, shallow and heavy.  
"Why won't you go away?" Seb asks, sobbing and yelling, tears streaming down his face. "Why won't this go away?!" he pleads.

 **2 hours earlier...**

"Slumber party, Boss, really?" Wordy asks.  
"It's called the night shift and we're here to work," Greg replies. Team Two had been in charge for the day, leaving Team One time to train and breathe a bit easier. The Sarge had evaluated Lew's negotiation tactics, Spike took Babycakes for a spin, Sam and Jules went hand-to-hand in combat, Wordy and Ed did the heavy lifting. It's one of those days where things just feel right, when they connect as a team.  
It was one of those days where things couldn't feel any worse for Sebastian Quinn. An indescribable sense of pain weighs on his shoulders. He's at a loss for words trying to express his emotions and thoughts. He knew he never should have taken Matthew's pistol, never should have come out here. So why did he do it? What made him take his uncle's gun and walk out here? It was an impulse, a 'let's see what I can do and how oblivious everyone is' kind of thing. He knew when he took the gun from Matthew's basement that he wouldn't really have a need for it. Until this week. Until today. Today's the day he'd do it, pull the trigger and wait.

 _"It's just...this sort of thing has happened before," Zack had told Sebastian while avoiding his eyes. "I've seen what happens...can happen when these things are out of human control."_

 _"I know, man, but come on, it was nothing,"Seb responded, lying through his teeth. "It was just a one time thing, just one late night lonely drinking session," he had told his friend. He had, however, forgotten to mention that the night Zack had caught him wasn't the only time he'd drank from the bottle alone, it was the only time Zack had caught him, so why not just tell him it happened once?_

 _He'd enjoyed the slightly warm, burning sensation of the alcohol gently sliding down his throat. Who cares what people think? Why does it matter? Another long swig, another surge of freedom. He first emptied a bottle of Jack and tossed it to the foot of his bed, the beer in his hand running low. The swigs started to feel less like freedom and more like damnation. But maybe that's what he was aiming for in the first place. Sebastian dropped the bottle onto his nightstand, sat down for a few seconds before shaking, slightly at first and then uncontrollably. He had the urge to speak, to scream, but was at a loss. He couldn't think of someone to call or anything to say, so instead he told himself that maybe the next day would be better as he sobbed his way to sleep._

 _Nobody really knew what had happened to Sebastian that night. As far as everyone else in school was concerned (ha! as if) he was just tired. He stayed tired and sleep deprived, hungry/not hungry, with headaches for the next two weeks. Nobody knew he couldn't take anything for his headaches because he couldn't trust himself not to take the pills and be knocked out for good. Nobody knew he couldn't trust himself to fall asleep without the assistance of alcohol. Nobody knew he wasn't hungry because he starved himself, nobody knew he couldn't eat because all the fasting left a hole in his stomach, a void where his appetite should be. Nobody knew because NOBODY CARED screamed the voice in Seb's head._

"Hey, Boss, you might want to hear this,"Winnie said, referring to the 911 call that had been transferred to the SRU at the end of Team Two's shift.


	2. Chapter 2

Sergeant Parker walks over to Winnie's desk while the rest of his team remains in the workout room. "Okay, what's this about?" he asks.

"A call came in about a half hour ago, but the caller hung up before we could get a location. I thought we should tag it, in case he calls again," Winnie tells him as she presses 'play'.

 _"Um...I..think I might need medical assistance..."_ the first voice said quietly and shaky.  
 _"Sir, can you please explain the nature of your emergency?"_ the 911 operator asked.  
 _"It's...nothing really. I'll just [muffled sounds]-"_ the first voice said and the call ended.

"Alright, what can you tell me about the caller?" Greg asks Winnie.  
"From what little info we got, I can tell you that the call was made from a cell phone registered to a Zachary Adams, age 17, and that the call came from somewhere rural," Winnie replies. "Sorry, Boss, that's all we have for now."  
"And why did the operator think that this was something for us?" Greg asks.  
"The phone registered to Adams? It hasn't been in use for the past two days," Winnie informs her boss.  
"And the phone's owner?" Greg asks. "Has anyone seen him or heard from him recently?"  
"I called his school and they told me that Adams has a steady attendance record and he's been there all week," Winnie replies.  
"Okay, let us know if he calls again," Greg says as he joins his team in the gym. He couldn't help himself from thinking about the call that had come in. The caller sounded like a young man, but it was the phone that wasn't in use, not the kid. And if it wasn't Adams who placed the call, who did, and what business did the caller have with that phone?

 **Half an hour earlier...**

Sebastian's gun hand shook as he paced back in forth in the small forest. _Is this really what I want?_ he asked himself over and over again. He remembered the promises that he had made, to Zack, to Kevin, to himself. Seb had tried, really tried, to put the pieces together, to figure out what the hell had happened, what happened that would make him take a gun and leave. It was impulsive, reckless, and straight up stupid to make a move like this, and yet he did. _Hell, they already think I'm stupid._ _I tried to prove them wrong, but look where that's gotten me._ _Why not shut 'em up and prove 'em right, once and for all?_ He weighted the pistol in his right hand, transferred it back and forth between his hands and slumped to the ground, his back to an old oak tree. _Why am I doing this? Is it better to just walk home and pretend that this never happened? To return the gun to Matt's basement and go back to school tomorrow?_ He was startled out of his thoughts by the sound of breaking twigs, the sound of someone's footsteps running toward him. Sebastian allowed his breaths to become calmer and tried to figure out if there was someone else in the forest with him or if it was his overactive imagination.

"C'mon, please be here, please be here, man," the owner of the footsteps yelled, sounding distraught. Sebastian cringed, he recognized the voice. _Oh, crap. Now look what you've done, you little shit. You dropped one too many hints, accidentally sent a text message, you've done something wrong again and now, now he's here, and how the hell am I supposed to explain my way out of this one? He'll find me eventually, then what? What?! Do I-_ and his thoughts broke off again, this time at the sound of the voice talking to...someone? Who else could be here? Sebastian strained to hear the voice and made out one side of the conversation. He thought he heard the voice asking for medical assistance _oh crap. Is he hurt? Is he calling for me? I-_ and then nothing. The footsteps seemed to be getting closer and closer. The breaths that he had tried to keep under control were becoming more jagged, and Sebastian realized he was almost hyperventilating. The footsteps became louder and louder as Sebastian's heart pounded louder and louder until-

"Seb! Man, it's good to see you!" the voice cried out and embraced him.  
"Zack, what the hell," Seb muttered back as he half-fought off his best friend.  
"I was worried about you and I thought you might be out here-" Zack began to speak as his eyes caught a glimpse of-"Seb, is that a gun?" Zack asked while trying to keep his voice even. Sebastian pulled himself out of Zack's hug and began to run with the little energy he had left in him. _Run, you bitch. You coward. Or don't. See if I care._ Sebastian shook his head slightly, tried to get his thoughts in order. _You can't even keep your thoughts together, how the hell are you supposed to get your life in order?_  
"Seb!" Zack called out, "I wanna talk to you, man, that's all."  
 _Why? What could I possibly say to make this whole situation better? All I know is failure-  
_ "Seb! Man, I'm serious. You're stumbling, just slow down, take a break," Zack's voice seemed closer now. _Shit, I'm actually stumbling. Can't walk in a straight line. Resting sounds good. It's just a rest, just a chat with Zack. Can't hurt to try._ Sebastian stopped his attempt to run and sat on a nearby tree stump.


	3. Chapter 3

Sergeant Parker enters the SRU gym, ready to do some last minute training before the inevitable hot call. His eyes scan the room and he notices that two members of his team aren't present.

"They went to the gun cage, just in case we have that hot call soon," Ed says, referring to Sam and Jules. With his eyes, Ed let the Sarge know that there was nothing going on between the two young constables. Greg wasn't too sure, but that conversation would have to be placed on hold until the shift was done. He was still thinking about the confusing 911 call as he told himself to get on his stationary bike and clear his mind before the usual, unavoidable call. He notices how well his team operates, how they always look out for each other, and thinks about how a majority of their hot calls recently have been situations in which the subjects involved lacked that kind of support, that unity, and how raw the world can be when one is alone. Greg continues his exercises with his team, his pedaling feet matching his rotating thoughts.

 **25 minutes earlier...**

Sebastian's feet slowed to a stop and he allowed himself to find a tree stump to rest on. Zack sat down next to him seconds later. Zack reached over and gently pried the gun out of his friend's hand. Nobody spoke for a long minute.  
"You know I'm always gonna be here for you, no matter what," Zack said softly. "And I know you think that I'm just saying that, but I really mean it."  
"I'm not worth your time and energy," Seb responded angrily and defeated. "I know you're here, but you shouldn't be. I shouldn't be here," he said as he turned his face away from Zack and rested his eyes on the pistol that lay a couple feet away. Zack gathered his thoughts before he spoke again. _Man, I hope I can get this right, please god let me get through to Sebastian, I have one shot at this and if I can't get through-_

"Seb," Zack started slowly, making sure he was making eye contact with his friend, "I know you probably think that I shouldn't be talking-"  
"So don't," Sebastian interrupted.  
"-and I'm not here to give you the cliche 'you have so much to live for' speech-"  
"Because I don't," Sebastian mumbled as his friend continued talking.  
"-so I'm going to talk to you from my heart. I know I haven't been the best friend, or even a very good friend, and I'm sorry." Zack took a deep breath before he continued as he made sure his friend was listening. "You like to think that when you're gone, things will be better. That when you're gone, everyone will suddenly remember all the good things and say to themselves 'how did we let this happen?' The reality is that if that does happen, and I hope to god it doesn't, memories fade away. People fade away. When you're gone, the memory of you goes as well. It's kinda like what happens when you go on holiday, you go camping and don't have your cell phone with you, but I still know that I can call you when the holiday's over, but if you were to go on permanent holiday I wouldn't be able to call you, ever. In life, you know the possibilities, the options that are there, that life can change, for better or worse, and I know that's not completely reassuring..." Zack trailed off. Sebastian had calmed down considerably, he hadn't interjected any more comments into his friend's speech, but both guys were nervous.

 _He's seriously talking to me right now, giving me the same goddamned speech I give to myself everyday, the same fucking speech that makes me so angry and guilty and_ as he thought, Sebastian began to clench his hands into fists, digging his fingernails into his palms as he tried to reason with himself and with Zack. Zack rested his right hand over his friend's left in an attempt to mollify Seb's anger.  
 _"_ What do normal people do?" Sebastian asked before Zack had a chance to continue.  
"What do you mean?" Zack replied, confused by the question.  
"Do normal people ever feel like shit? What do they do when they get so..." Seb paused, searching for the right word, "...frustrated with life, with themselves?" Sebastian muttered the question under his breath, more to himself than to his friend.  
"You know how I feel about normal," Zack started.  
"There's no such thing," the two friends finished.  
"But seriously, I guess everyone has their own way of dealing with things in life."  
"Yeah, I seem to be doing a great job coping with the world," came the snarled, sarcastic reply. "Man, I'm fucking awesome." Zack's confidence in his ability to help his friend started to diminish and he became worried that Sebastian would snap.  
"I guess what I'm trying to say is that yes, there have been times and there will be times when life gets you down, when you feel so alone and confused, I'm not trying to deny that. I'm trying to say that there will be silver linings, there will be good times. Even when you feel like you can't seem to find anything good, even when you feel so broken, just know that-"  
Police sirens cut through whatever words Zack wanted to say. The look Sebastian gave him was something he'd always remember.  
"You fucking liar! You sold me out!" Sebastian raged as he stood up to retrieve Matthew's gun from the other side of the tree. "How could you do this to me?!"


	4. Chapter 4

Zack wanted to say that he didn't sell out his friend, wanted to shrug off the sirens and pretend that they were headed elsewhere, but what would be the point in lying? He knew those sirens, those cop cars, were headed towards the forest because he had called them in. Sebastian was standing five feet away from him, held his gun steadily in his right hand. He had stopped yelling but continued to pace back and forth in small steps. The sirens were getting closer, and Zack closed his eyes to try and think about how this had happened...

 **3 hours earlier...**

The iPhone sat on his bed, as if it dared Zack to pick it up and turn it on. The previous week, Zack had put a GPS app into Sebastian's phone in case he went out and stayed somewhere he shouldn't be. It wasn't that he didn't trust his friend, he just wanted to make sure that he was safe. The problem was that most of the time Seb was in danger was when his phone wasn't anywhere it shouldn't be, like the lake or a sketchy skate park, but when it was confined to the basement room of his house. Zack felt so guilty about the GPS that he turned off his phone and left it on his nightstand for the past couple of days. Tonight, however, he got the feeling that something was wrong. Seb hadn't been in all his classes and when he was he had his face down on his desk. Zack reached out and checked the app as soon as his phone was on. _Johnson Forest_. _Okay, a forest. We've been there before._ _He's just going for a hike or something. Or something_ worried Zack and he quickly tied his shoes and put on his jacket. The forest was only a half hour walk from his house, and Zack jogged all the way there in the cool evening. He slowed down at a bench under a streetlight where a man was smoking a cigarette.

"Excuse me?" Zack asked the man. "Could I please borrow your phone? Mine's dead-"  
"Sure, kid," the man replied, handing over his phone. Zack mumbled a 'thanks', stepped a few feet away and dialed. He hesitated, unsure of what to say when the operator prompted him to give his anonymous tip.  
"Johnson Forest, in a couple hours...fight...possible drug and alcohol use...kid needs help," Zack spoke, hung up, exhaled a breath he didn't realize he held. He deleted his call from the man's phone, returned it to him, and started to jog through the woods in search of his best friend.

 _Shit, did I really just do that?! What the fuck was I thinking? I can't take that call back, the things I said may not even be true, then what? If it's anonymous can I still be in trouble if it's falsified information and I sent a bunch of constables on a wild goose chase? Fight, drugs, alcohol- there will probably be a fight between us, as much as we'd both hate it, I got no clue if there are any illegal substances in his body. Hell, I don't know if he's even eaten anything recently. I need Sebastian to be unharmed, he's not gonna like me being here, how do I even know he's in trouble? What if he's here with someone else and I screw things up?  
_ Thoughts ran through his mind as he continued his jog, tried to avoid tripping over sticks and rocks as the sky began to turn into night. He pulled out his phone, checked the app to see that he was within a half mile of Sebastian. _This is crazy. I'm crazy. I just called the police and-_ he stopped suddenly, listened intently. Zack heard twigs snapping and the sound of feet walking heavily. He resisted the urge to call out for his friend, this was, after all, public property and anyone could be responsible for those footfalls. Zack walked after the unknown person, checked his phone to confirm it was his friend. He heard the sobs that began to escape Seb's throat and how those cries struggled to scream out loud. Zack couldn't help but feel broken. He'd caused this. He wasn't there when his friend needed him, and now they were walking through a forest as the day started to become night, their presences unknown to each other.  
 _I pushed too hard or didn't push at all to find out what's going on. I get it, I don't like the looks Sebastian gives my bruised chest and he doesn't like the looks I give him when I can smell the booze on him, but what can we do? We've all got demons to deal with, but it seems so much easier to try shouldering someone else's problem than to solve our own. What am I supposed to say when I get to him? What should I do? Is this situation really all that bad? Should I go back and forget-_ the footsteps Zack was following had stopped. He peered out from behind a tree to see Sebastian standing unsteadily a few yards away. Zack had forgotten about the anonymous tip he'd placed and took out his phone to dial 911. _He's shaking. He's probably dehydrated and sleep deprived and_

"911, what is your emergency?" came a calm female voice.  
"Um...I..think I might need medical assistance..." Zack said quietly and slightly nervous. _I hope I'm not making a mistake._  
"Sir, can you please explain the nature of your emergency?" the 911 operator asked.  
 _Zack lowered his phone and after a glance at the GPS notification, noticed that his friend was walking again and_ "It's...nothing really. I'll just try to deal with this. Sorry for wasting your time," he said while shoving his phone in his pocket.

Sebastian was screaming, launching Zack into his present reality.  
"Seb?" he cautiously asks.  
"Fuck you!" came the teary reply. "You-how did you know?"  
"How did I know what?" Zack asks, trying to keep both of them as serene as possible.  
"How," Seb gulps back tears, "did you know I was gonna...? You were surprised by the gun, but how did you know about this?"  
"I know you, man," Zack says, avoiding the mention of the GPS app. "And believe me, I-"  
"I don't wanna hear it," mutters an angry response. "The sirens are getting louder now." Sebastian began to panic.  
"I'm not gonna let them hurt you," Zack promises, hoping it doesn't sound as weak as it feels on his inside.  
"That's what they all say. You know me, you know I can't go back, I can't do it..." Seb trails off, growing distant from Zack and closer to the gun in his hand. Zack was anticipating the moment when his friend would discard the gun and sit down again. _Where did he even get that thing? It looks like it's in good condition and used before, but Seb doesn't have a pistol._ As the sirens became clearer, his mind became foggier, overflowing with questions. _Did the cops really send in the cavalry for one stupid tip? There are at least three different sets of sirens going off. I can't believe I let this happen. I know what happened, and especially after what just happened with Kevin...  
_ "Zack!" Sebastian yells, "The sounds are getting louder. The lights are flashing, I can see all the colors..." Sebastian began to rock himself back and forth. "What the hell happens now?"


	5. Chapter 5

Winnie Camden sat behind her desk, whirling from computer screen to computer screen as she tried to track down the 911 call Team Two had received. The triangulated signal gave her a rough idea of where the call had generated from, but they needed more. She began to run a background check on the owner of the phone while cross referencing other emergency calls from the vague area of the call from the troubled youth.  
 _Zachary Adams, born 17 May 1997 to Lindsey and Michael Adams. Nothing illegal or criminal reported for the teenager, a couple of DUIs and public misdemeanors from the father that had been sorted out a few years ago. No reported history of abuse or violence in the household, no gun permits, no priors for possession of illegal substances..._ An alert sounded from a program Winnie had been running. An anonymous tip was placed roughly forty minutes before the emergency call the SRU had received, stating the time and place in which a fight would occur involving a kid who was possibly under the influence. The voice recognition software matched the two callers to be the same, which still left some major questions.  
 _The second call came from a phone belonging to Adams, the first call, being anonymous, would be more difficult to track. Who reported Adams's phone missing? Did Adams make the calls, and if he didn't, who did? Was the caller planning on getting into a fight or preventing it? The voice sounded unsure. Johnson Forest- an area of approximately 25 square miles. The call came from the northern side, so that should narrow the perspectives down considerably. Hopefully. If the caller is anywhere near accurate, and he says the fight will take place in a couple of hours, there's a possibility that the kid in the caller's tip is within a five-ten mile radius from where the call originated from._ Winnie started to map out the plausible location where the supposed fight would be taking place later that night.

"I'm telling you, there's no way," Lew said in between bench presses.  
"Then how'd you explain both of them going to check the cage? After they went hand-to-hand? Something's going on," Spike insisted.  
"Babycakes giving you problems again?" Wordy half-teased. Spike glanced quickly at Lew, unsure if he should let Wordy in on their little guessing game.  
"Her infrared cameras are a bit off, buddy," Lew supplied, earning him a dirty glare from Spike and a slight smile from Wordy. Everyone knew not to joke about Spike's precious cargo but it was hard to resist the temptations to make fun of his 'girl'.  
"But I just checked them! How's that possible?" Even though Spike knew this conversation was going on for Wordy's benefit, he became worried that maybe there could be something wrong with his Baby. Spike held his ground and resisted the urge to check his robot as he began doing leg lifts. Wordy returned his attention to the Maple Leafs game on TV and Lew mouthed the words 'no way' another time to Spike, getting the last word before returning to his weights.

The gun cage, organized and neat, all the tactical shotguns in one spot, all the pistols together, all the rifles-  
"All there, all locked," Sam said.  
"All the ammo?" Jules asked. Sam turned to face her as he said "What, you think I'm _that_ incompetent?" with a smile on his face. Jules smiled back and flicked his ear.  
"What was that for?"  
"You got some blue paint specks on you," Jules replied. "We really should be more careful about this."  
"What exactly is 'this', anyway?" Sam tried to make his voice sound casual, his face relatively emotionless. He certainly knew how he felt about Jules, but didn't know if those feelings were reciprocated. Jules's response wasn't with words, but with an expression on her face that Sam read as 'really, Sam, we're gonna do this here and now?'. Sam broke the silence and said "Don't worry, Jules, all I do is prime your drywall," which earned him a blush and slap to the cheek. _Seriously, I'm gonna have to tell her sooner or later. I wish it could be sooner, besides, Jules has made it very clear that if it's the Team or me...I'll settle for later_ Sam thought as he counted bullets and organized ammunition.

"Keep talking like that and you'll be on your own tonight, Braddock," Jules warned. _We're supposed to be professionals here. We can't let our emotions get the best of us, especially on a call. Connect, respect, protect. Keep the peace. That's the job, not flirting with snipers._ But at the same time- _I really like 'this', what Sam and I have. If it comes down to him or Team One..._ and then- _wow, I sound like a whiny teenager. So much for professionalism._

A 911 operator transferred a call that came from the area around Johnson Forest to the Strategic Response Unit. Winnie hit 'play' and listened to it before she put out the alert.  
 _"911, what is your emergency?"  
"This kid was hanging around, I let him borrow my phone to make a call. It slipped my mind earlier, but I think I heard him talkin' about a gunfight in the woods tonight."  
_

This new call, this new information. Pieces started to fit in place, timelines steadied themselves. Winnie checked, double-checked, triple-checked everything to be certain that now was the time. Now was time for the Team to move.  
"Team One, gear up," Winnie's calm voice filled the room.


	6. Chapter 6

"You remember how I always say that I'm here for you?" Zack tried to keep his voice steady, to reel Sebastian into a relatively calm state.

"BullSHIT!" the word was spat out. It hurt entering Zack's ears as much as it hurt leaving Seb's throat. Zack rationalized, told himself that his best friend did have a valid point, that despite saying he'd always be there, the times Seb needed him the most he wasn't there, but how was he supposed to have known if he wasn't told? Sebastian also knew that he didn't intend for his words to be so blunt, but a hurricane of emotions whirled through his mind, too many to allow him to think clearly. The last time he felt like this...

 _The walls were white, so bright they almost blinded his tired eyes. Lights engineered to mimic sunlight poured into a windowless room, and didn't help alleviate the pounding in his head. He didn't remember entering the room, or laying down on this bright-white railed bed and falling asleep. Then it hit him like a punch to the gut, waves of nausea overcame him along with a culmination of emotions - confusion, trepidation, anger, fear, sadness.  
"Ah, Mr. Quinn, I'm so glad to see you're awake. How are you feeling? Ready to meet your new roommate?" a kind, gently authoritative voice asked. Sebastian nodded slightly and slowly stood up. He followed the voice's owner while he took in the unfamiliar surroundings. With his head and body slouched over, he noted the way his shoe-less feet (why don't I have my shoes?) followed a pattern of light green and blue floor tiles, his hands traced the wooden railing that lined the soft blue walls until he stopped behind the man who led him down the hall. Sebastian looked up to see a room almost identical to the one he had recently vacated, except this room had two neatly made twin beds without railings. On one bed there was an organized assortment of stuffed...things - a moose holding a maple leaf, a football, a spider-man - and in the middle of all that was Kevin Richards. Kevin's face radiated intelligence and exuded a sense of warmth.  
"Mr. Quinn, this is Mr. Richards. Mr. Richards, this is Mr. Quinn. You'll be rooming together for the next couple of weeks," the voice addressed and gestured to the two young men as he spoke.  
"Kevin. Dr. Youngblood, my name is Kevin." His voice was respectable and barely audible to Seb even though they were a couple feet apart.  
"Sebastian," he introduced himself with a quick glance at Kevin. (Dr. Youngblood. Why is a doctor showing me a roommate?). It took some time for Seb to become adjusted to his new situation and to figure things out, but Kevin was good and Zack was there too. Zack visited him. He had Kevin and Zack and he was okay._

"We can work this out, man. I'm not gonna let anything happen to you," said a patient Zack as he attempted to move closer to his friend, to close the literal and figurative distance between them.

"They'll take me away! It's your fault! You had to come out here and fuck things up!" Sebastian hoarsely yelled, his voice strained and worn. He continued to pace around, gun still in hand. _Do I use it? Just cut everything out? Leave him here? The police are gonna show up and then what?_ "Why are you even here?" Tears began to form and slowly fall from Seb's face as the gravity of the situation started to weigh him down.  
"I'm here because I care, the same way you care for me. And I'm not letting you out of my sight. No one's taking you away," Zack spoke firmly. "I'll explain this to the cops, tell them that this isn't your fault-" he was cut off by a scoff.

"The hell? 'Course this is me," Seb's voice trailed off as the tears kept flowing. _The gun's here for a reason, you dipshit. It was waiting for you to take it from Matt's basement, waiting for this moment in time. Sure, you've unloaded and reloaded it multiple times before. But why? The fuck is wrong with you that you took it and now it's yours? You had to go out and cause trouble and this is the way out of it all. The bad sounds of police sirens are getting louder and louder and they can't take you. Not like this._ "Save your breath," dejected words spoken from a tired soul.  
"It's _us._ It's us, just like before, just like it's always been," Zack pleaded, desperate that his words would sound alright to his friend's ears. Zack needed Sebastian to believe him, to understand that it wasn't too late to call a do-over and talk things out before the authorities would show. "You've been there for me, least I could do is stay here." Being in each other's presence was usually enough to moderate a rough situation.

 _He peeled his t-shirt off slowly as he crossed the room to lock the bedroom door. He returned to his desk and pulled out a box of paperclips and a lighter that had been pushed to the back drawer. Five paperclips were taken out of the box and deliberately straightened out into strips. The lighter was flicked a couple of times before the flame ignited. One by one, each piece of metal was held between his left hand and his shirt (wouldn't want anyone to see my scorched palm) while his right hand passed the lighter's blue-orange fire beneath it. One by one those strips of potent metal were pressed deep into his bare chest and remained there until the heat was gone. Thin lines criss-crossed his chest, some a faded brown-pink and others a fresh pink mark. Zack then got up, threw his t-shirt into a pile of dirty clothes, wrapped up the remainder of what had once been paperclips and threw them in the trash, returned his lighter and the box of clips to their spot, and sat for a couple of moments while he stared at himself. (I did this. I accomplished something. I accomplished something and I feel like crap) He stood up to get his phone and scrolled through his contacts before he realized he couldn't talk to anyone. Instead he pulled on a hoodie and walked over to the only person he felt could help him by just being there, slightly oblivious that it was four in the morning._

* * *

"Team One, gear up," Winnie's calm voice filled the room.  
"What are we looking at?" Ed asked as he adjusted his vest.  
"A couple of teenagers at Johnson Forest using substances and fighting, with a possibility of a gun involved," Winnie said. "Aside from the emergency calls, nothing too concrete, but we have to look into this-"  
"To keep the peace," the Team finished while gathering their equipment. As they made their way to the elevator, Spike remained uncharacteristically quiet.  
"Man, you alright?" Lew asked him as they headed towards their Suburban.  
"It's just...the woods. My people don't like 'em very much," Spike managed. Lew was confused.  
"Your people? From Woodbridge?"  
"No, Lew. Romans. Three times we fought in the forest against the Huns, didn't go so good," Spike explained. Lew smiled slightly behind his friend's back as they got into the car and drove onto the highway.  
"Team One, here's what we're going into," Sergeant Parker's voice broadcast over the Team's headsets. "There's a relatively clear piece of forest, about a mile and a half of ground to cover. Ed, Jules, Lew-you'll be Alpha. Bravo-Spike and Wordy, Sam-you're my second tonight."  
There was a collective "Copy, Boss" and then a brief silence before the calm would turn to storm.


	7. Chapter 7

Team One had split into Alpha and Bravo teams while Greg began to solidify the information together in preparation for his negotiation. There were many aspects of this job that unsettled him, and dealing with troubled youth in the night definitely made it to the top five.  
 _Okay, we've got a couple of teenagers surrounded by trees in the darkness, possibly under the influences of drugs and alcohol, which could lead to a gun being fired. I'll ask Winnie to check recent calls, see if any of those contacts might be the other guy here. Also check to see if there are any registered weapons. Registration makes this a bit easier._

The SRU use small flashlights and thermal sensors to locate the teenagers, trying to stay out of sight. They had turned off their sirens and police lights at the forest's entrance and set a roadblock there to detract interruptions. Being caught 'sneaking around' would probably cause additional strife, and they did not want the situation to escalate any further.

"We got movement, upper left sector," Spike's voice cut clearly through the night. "Subject is armed and agitated. Approach with caution."  
"Copy that, Bravo, we're on the way to enclose the perimeter," Jules replies as she and Lew circled back around. Jogging, they meet up with the Sarge and Sam a couple yards away from the two boys, hidden in a small enclave of trees.  
"We're less lethal until I say we're not. Clear? Rubber bullets and shields if necessary, but nothing that's going to push these guys further back," Greg instructs his team. While Alpha and Bravo take their required equipment and carefully close the perimeter, Sergeant Parker motions for Sam to cover him as they approach the scene.

Sitting on a fallen log in a clearing of trees is a young man with sandy hair, gesturing with his hands while he speaks. Another young man, the one with a gun, is rocking furiously back and forth a foot away. He looks up and sees the two negotiators, realization dawning on him. Sebastian turns to the guy he once considered to be his best friend and mouths the word 'why?' over and over again. Zack's eyes show an amazing amount of emotion, it's almost as if he is reading Seb's mind and answering all the unspoken questions with his face. The friends manage to stand up together while knowing that they are facing these negotiators apart.  
There's no need for a megaphone. The night air is silent, cooperating.

"My name is Sergeant Gregory Parker, I'm with the Strategic Response Unit," the shorter negotiator begins. Gesturing to his partner, Greg says "This is Constable Sam Braddock. We're here to talk," he continues gently, conveying a sense of honesty.  
Sebastian and Zack just stand, unsure how to proceed. Who's supposed to talk back to the officers, the one who placed the calls or the cause of those calls?  
"Zachary Adams?" Greg asks which elicits a slight nod. "You called emergency services for medical assistance earlier. That was a very smart move." He didn't mention the anonymous tip about substances, it was clear to him that both boys are red-eyed and shifty, but resulting from sleep deprivation and malnutrition. EMS on standby was a smart move by both parties. "We all want to return home safely tonight."

 _Safely? Am I really that dangerous now, do they really need that shield up? Home? Is there anywhere for me now, after all this? Shit, have the officers told the parental unit about me? Of course they have, I'm holding a gun from my uncle's basement.  
_ "Can you help us understand why we're out here tonight?" Greg asks, attempting to connect, seeing his team all around.  
 _He wants my help? Me? Help him? How can I possibly help him? I can't even bring myself to open my mouth. Everything I say comes back to hurt me._

"What's your name, son?" tries Greg.  
"Seb-Sebastian," comes the nervous reply.  
"Thank you for telling me that, Sebastian. I find it's easier to have a conversation when we both know each other's names. Sebastian, I would really appreciate if you could please lower your weapon. It will be more comfortable for us to talk face-to-face, without these distractions," Greg states while pointing to his shield in Sam's hand and the gun in Seb's.  
The young man holds on to his pistol tightly, then shifts it from being held by his chest to his thighs. This action doesn't go unnoticed by anyone. Everyone's aware of the gravity of the situation, and all wait for the interaction to continue between Seb and the Sarge.  
"That's good, that's very good, Sebastian," comes the positive reinforcement from the lead negotiator. "Can I ask you what you're thinking? What brought you here today, son?"

 _The truth? I'm just so scared all the time, there's so much pain-  
_ "I just needed some space to clear my head," Seb mumbles a reply while studying his sneakers.  
"You gonna tell the truth?" Zack asks his friend. "You gonna be honest with me?" These words are out of the negotiator's earshot, but not the emotions they convey.  
"Not good. I'll redirect Zack's attention, Sam-you take the lead on Sebastian," Greg speaks softly.  
"'Course, it's always about you," Seb begins to pace again, the gun begins to pass from hand to hand again. His eyes scan his surroundings rapidly, attempting to see clearly in the dim light of the moon. His gaze lands on the SRU negotiators, and for a second he begins to think there are more officers in the forest. _I'm just being paranoid, that's all. I should talk and talk until I can't anymore and they'll have no choice but to-  
_ "Sebastian?" Zack tentatively asks. "The lead guy's motioning for me to walk over to him. I don't want to leave-"  
"Go," comes the bitter reply. "Go over to those guys and tell 'em what you told me earlier, that this isn't what it looks like, that I'm clearly 100% okay." Sarcasm laced words, and his friend didn't know what to make of them. _Man, I really don't want to leave you here. I know that this looks rough, and that's because it is, but I wanna do what's best for you. Right now, that's going over to the 'enemy', delivering 'secrets'. I'm so sorry, friend. My only wish right now is to make sure that you're okay._

No further words are spoken, and a hundred thoughts travel telepathically between them. Eventually it's too much for Zack to handle. He looks over at his friend's face, the one overcome with dread, and at the faces of the negotiators, strategies humming wildly through their brains, hoping to snag one that will help Sebastian.  
 _Please don't hate me, please don't hate me_ Zack mentally directs towards Sebastian while _p_ _lease help him, please help him_ directs towards Sergeant Parker and Constable Braddock as he walks to meet them beyond the clearing.


	8. Chapter 8

Sam walks toward Sebastian with his hands raised in front of him, palms up, the universal 'non threatening' stance. All of his tactical gear has been removed, even his vest. A risky move to make, one that could get him in major trouble if this situation increases in intensity. Sebastian tries to notice how the constable is behaving relative to his own behaviors, but the sight of his best friend walking away from him is distracting.  
 _I deserve this. I got Zack involved in this mess, and he's smart enough to get the hell out before he gets hurt. I'm alone now, and it's entirely my fault. This is how it's supposed to be, just me here, except now Zack and the police are here. Once Zack tells the police the truth about me, they'll have to make their decision. I've made mine, I have the solution right here in my hand._

Zack can't bring himself, doesn't have the strength to look at his friend again. At the same time, he can't figure out how to place his left foot in front of his right foot and make his way over to Sergeant Parker of the Strategic Response Unit.

Team One notices Zack's hesitation and Sebastian's nervousness, and begin loading their guns with rubber bullets. If the situation were to escalate, they would want to proceed with less lethal tactics. After all, they are dealing with teenagers. True, both of those kids are emotionally unstable, but inciting more violence would be counterproductive. Jules watches Sam closely through the scope of her rifle and hopes that her boyfriend can get over the distrust since his previous negotiation. Sebastian needs someone to connect with him, to help get him home safely, and if Sam cannot do that, who else on the team can?

 _"I'm tired, Sam," Darren Kovacs spoke honestly.  
_ _"Then let's get some rest. Let's do this together," Sam reached out to the distressed sniper.  
"Okay."_

"Sebastian, I'm going to walk closer so we can hear each other better," begins Sam, quickening his pace and closing the distance, leaving them standing five feet apart. Sebastian is barely in control of his actions, the dehydration is apparent now, and he looks as if he could collapse at any moment. Emergency Medical Services are en route, thanks to Zack and Greg's previous calls. There's a small voice nagging in the back of Sam's head, worrying that by the time EMTs arrive, they'll be nothing left for them.

"He's reaching for his gun," the constable whispers an update to his team, keeping his voice low. Team One begins to enclose the negotiator and teenager in a smaller area to contain the situation.

"Please, go away," the teenager's voice is weak and nearing tears. "I just need to be alone right now." _Please, go. Please take Zack with you and your team, talk to him, make sure he doesn't remember what happened here. Tell him that it was just a dream, that he stumbled upon a police training exercise, tell him anything but the truth. Please get my friend out of here, please get yourselves out of here._

"I'm not going to leave you alone," Sam promises and tries to establish eye contact with agitated boy who's standing a few feet and a world apart.

"Why are you lying to me?!" Sebastian's hoarse voice cracks as he attempts to scream, salty tears pouring down his cheeks. "He promised me that, too. He promised me that he wouldn't go, that he wouldn't leave, he promised and now he's GONE!" Sebastian managed to shout, his feet beginning to walk frantically across the dark forest floor.

"Sebastian, your friend is here. Zack is standing a few yards away with my sergeant. I can take you over to him, if you'd like," Sam speaks while gesturing with his arm for Seb to follow him out of the clearing. At this suggestion, Sebastian stops moving. He stands, almost frozen in place, while his body begins to shake. What originated as nervous tics escalates into an anxiety attack.

"No, no, he's not there. He can't be there. He's gone," utters the apprehensive adolescent. Zack is watching on and even though he is out of earshot, he grasps the meaning behind the words murmured by his mate. Zack's sentence to the police sergeant trails off as he sneaks glimpses of the negotiation, prompting the older man to ask 'are you okay, Mr. Adams?'

"Sir," Zack says, unable to keep his eyes off Sebastian,"there's something you should know." He gulps, gathers his courage, tells himself that this isn't another betrayal of trust, and says "Seb lost his roommate a few months ago. Kevin...they were very close, sir. I knew he didn't take it well so I've been trying to help him, but..."  
"You did the right thing, Zack," Parker reassures the youth, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Can you tell me more about Kevin?"  
Zack nods and looks up at the sergeant. "Kevin and Seb were roommates last year, at the Shepherd Hospital. You know, the..."  
"Psychiatric unit downtown," Greg finishes Zack's sentence, leaving him uneasy.  
"Yeah, that one. Seb wasn't supposed to be there, honest, it was a misunderstanding. Anyway, once he was there, they placed him in the only available room, with Kevin. They both have-well, Kevin had- issues with their parents, and school, and life in general. I don't really know much, except that for those months Seb was in Shepherd, Kevin was the only one he'd talk with. They were discharged the same day, except they never got to say good-bye. They had each other's emails and stayed in contact. One day...one day, Seb got a newspaper article attached to a message." Zack looks up now, not at the Sarge but at Sebastian.  
"'Local Boy Found Dead in Lake Monroe'" Greg says to himself. He remembers reading that story during a workout before shift, after he had heard bits and pieces of the story from Dean. "Sam, Sebastian's friend committed suicide in April. His name was Kevin Richards," Greg informs his negotiator and team over the headset's first channel.

 _Sebastian walked down the hall and out the double set of double doors, dejected and elated. Bipolar. Time to return to home sweet home. He didn't look back on his way out, just shifted his bag over his shoulder and reached into his pocket. He patted it just to be sure that the small slip of paper inscribed with 'k-ricky407 ' was secure. Seb was relieved that he would be leaving the hospital that his parental unit had put him in, nervous about being re-accepted into 'normal' society. The good news was that he'd still have a piece of his 'inside life' with his 'outside life' to balance him out-Kevin's contact information. Sebastian returned to his house, which looked exactly the same as it did the last time he'd been there five months ago. That is to say, it was covered in dirty laundry, unopened electrical bills, dishes congealed with god only knows what and broken across the counters...home sweet home.  
Sebastian's re-emergence in the school went unnoticed, as if no one even knew he was absent from the first months of classes. Only Zack knew, and he was smart enough to not say anything. Sebastian looked forward to checking his email, something he hadn't felt since middle school. His interactions with Kevin were his alone, no one else but the two of them involved, although Seb suspected that Zack knew but was kind enough to shut his pie-hole. Life was beginning to seem livable again. School seemed bearable, even the shithole of a place known as 'home' wasn't terrible. Days turned into weeks, weeks into months, and contact with Kevin was the constant driving force. One new message-k-ricky407-no subject. What could be the harm in reading that? Sebastian opened the email, glanced at the attachment briefly, noticed how the message was signed, and hurled his iPod across the room. With a heavy heart and shaking limbs, Sebastian retrieved his iPod and read the end of the email. 'He really did love you, Seb. Please remember that.-jess-rickysmiles'. Kevin's sister had sent this message. Tears pooled in his eyes and formed rivers down his cheeks. Unable to resist, Seb finally opened up the article-it can't be true, he can't be gone...We promised each other._

"I know you promised, but you're gone now," Sebastian whispers. Sam hears this, pairs it up with the fact his boss just gave him, and steps so he is only a foot away from Sebastian.  
"Sebastian, stay with me. Please, look at me. I understand," Sam looks into Sebastian's eyes, noticing that the young man's gun is moving up to chest level.


	9. Chapter 9

Sebastian stands his ground, although he takes his hazel eyes off of Constable Braddock's blue ones. He notices that his gun seems to be getting too close for comfort, but he can't seem to put it down. _He understands? He knows, really knows, what it's like to be me? To feel like this day after day-_

"I lost a buddy of mine, too," Sam's voice takes Sebastian out of his reverie. "We had made a pact together, and one morning I found out that he didn't make it." Here Sam's voice begins to loose its serenity and start to shake a bit. Knowing that he must contain his personal feelings and concentrate his energy on Sebastian, Sam tries again. "Look at me, Sebastian," Sam's tone returns to the sincere, friendly one that originated the conversation.  
Sebastian wearily gazes up at Braddock while his thoughts spin around like a whirlwind in his mind.  
"I know what it's like to hear people offer their sympathies, their 'it'll be okay's when you know that it's not okay-"  
"That things will never be the same," Sebastian manages to mutter an interruption. _Damn. I know what comes next. You let someone in and then they use everything and anything they can find against you._

 _Good. He's responsive, he's aware. We can get him home soon._ "I also know that I can't pretend to know exactly what you went through and what you are feeling now."  
"You're right," Sebastian's lips quiver as he speaks. His body is trembling and threatens to shut itself down. The stress is palpable to everyone around, not just the negotiator directly in front of the boy. Sergeant Parker briefs the medics, tells them about the dehydration and fatigue, but not to interfere with Sebastian until he gives the orders. The medics move in to check on Zack, but he insists he's fine and returns his attention to his best friend.  
"Then help me to understand what's going on. I want to help you-" Sebastian's sarcastic laugh cuts off whatever words the constable had planned to tell Sebastian.  
"You... you want my help, to help me?" Sebastian's laugh sounds more manic than ironic, and Sam decides to change his tactic.  
"That's a nice piece you have there," Sam gestures towards the teenager's gun with his hand. "I've got one like that myself, gift from the family."

Sergeant Parker picks up Sam's intentions behind the statement. He had managed to get Sebastian's last name from Zack after a couple prompts. It was typical of the boy to protect his friend by not giving up his name, and eventually Zack yielded. "Winnie, can you see if anyone in Sebastian Quinn's family has a registered firearm, more specifically, if anyone has a Colt?" Sergeant Parker asks Winnie while watching the situation in front of him shift. It seems as if the end goal of returning Sebastian home is finally within reach, but Greg also knows that the circumstances can change for the worst just as easily as they can for the better.  
"Matthew Quinn, Sebastian's uncle. He has a couple of guns, including a Colt, but none were reported missing," Winnie tells Greg. "His address is only a couple of miles away. Should I send someone there?" Winnie asks her boss.  
"I'll have Wordy go."  
"Copy, boss," Wordy replies and heads towards his Suburban.  
"Winnie, I don't want the parents down here yet, can you keep their numbers on standby for me?" Greg asks.  
"Sure thing. Standing by," Winnie replies.

Sebastian, confused by the negotiator's statement, remains in place with his gun by his side. _Why is he complimenting Matt's gun? Doesn't he know why I have it here? Does he know it belongs to Matt? Is this going to get him in trouble? The whole point of being here is to keep everyone out of the troubled mess that is my life, not drag everybody down to hell with me.  
_ "They let you carry vintage pieces in the force?" Sebastian manages to say.  
"No, only tactical weapons allowed here," Sam replies before he remembers that mentioning the last bit may not be the best idea. No need to remind them both of the danger they are in, and the varying conditions that could make their position worse.  
"Did your friend really die, or was that just something you said to get me to listen?" Sebastian suddenly asks without a trace of menace in his voice. "I mean, I wouldn't think of telling a lie like that..." he trails off, unable to meet the man's eyes.  
"You're just unsure if I'm sincere, if I can be trusted," Sam's insides squirm with guilt and self doubt as he ventures again to connect with the youth standing two feet in front of him. "He was a good man, through and through. Nothing can change that fact. I need you to trust me, and I need you to trust that we can get through this, okay?" Sam's tone is firm, and Sebastian knows that what the negotiator had said earlier wasn't meant to get his attention.  
Sebastian looks at the constable, embarrassed by the accusations he made. "I didn't mean to...you know...I'm sorry. About your friend. And what I said," Sebastian chokes up. _If someone ever said anything about Kevin like what I said about Sam's friend...Damn it! Every time, every damn time I try to make something work I end up fucking things up to the point of no repair. I feel so_ _dead on the inside, so why is my outside still here?_ Sebastian begins to clutch the right side of his stomach with his left hand while swinging the gun in his right hand. Sam sees that Sebastian is hurting and close to his breaking point.

"Why don't we sit down?" The negotiator gestures to a fallen log. When Sebastian doesn't make a move towards the seat, Sam tries to get the anguished young man to leave the clearing with him. "Okay, it's fine if we stand. Are you cold, Sebastian? Do you want to get a jacket?"  
It is almost like the teenager is on another planet. Even though he is shaking and sweating, he seems unaware of his physical state. "I...I can't take it anymore," the reply is barely a whisper.  
"Braddock, connect," Sergeant Parker's voice is urgent in Sam's headset. "We want to protect Mr. Quinn. If you need me to switch places with you, give the signal."  
Sam keeps his hands in front of him, doesn't move the right one behind him and hold up two fingers, the pre-arranged signal to move on. Determined to carry on with his task, Sam places his hands on Sebastian's shoulders. A hazardous move to make in any negotiation, let alone one with an armed subject and unarmed officer. The teenager stays put, maintains his lopsided stance and makes no move against the man holding him in place- no plans of offense or defense. This worries Sam, seeing the boy so motionless and so filled with emotion. Emergency medics are waiting to make their move, and Winnie keeps the parents' numbers on speed-dial.  
"Is there somewhere you can go?" the constable asks. Sebastian sniffles his nose, tries to get the tears out of his vision without moving his hands.  
"What do you mean?" Sebastian returns. "I'm here...this is where I have to be...I.. I can't go back."  
Instead of asking why Sebastian can't go back, or where he can't go back to, Sam resumes verbalizing his thoughts. "Is there a place you can picture in your mind, a place where you feel safe whenever you feel the way you are now?"  
"I've never felt his way before," Sebastian denies, waiting to be called out. When no one replies, he continues. "I lied, just now. I have felt like this before, I have," he says, backing away from Sam's hands.  
"What happened the last time you've felt-"  
"Like total shit?" Sebastian interrupts. He's on a roll now, words flowing out of his mouth like a stream. He lets go of his stomach but not the gun. At this point, the gun is like part of his limb, or at least an additional finger. "I was scared, all right? I am scared. Is that what you wanna hear, that I get stuck in my own head and scared to death all the time? That being scared to death is terrifying, and death isn't anymore? I hate being scared," Sebastian whimpers. He's a sweaty, shaking mess, and at long last, he's pouring out his heart. "I don't like being alone, but I'm lonely when other people are around. I don't like being apart from everyone, but I can't be a part of them. I'm a hypocrite. I let my friend die- it should've been me, not him." Sebastian's wails pierce the quiet night.  
"I'm so sorry, Sebastian. I'm sorry that no matter how much you try to explain it to me, I will never be able to feel your pain. Sebastian, I need you to know that you are more than the pain you feel." Sam moves closer to Sebastian, desperate to pull him back in to a place where he'll respond to kind, honest words.  
"Don't come any closer! I'll do it, I swear I'll do it!" Sebastian yells, oblivious to the sympathy of the SRU negotiator, the SRU team surrounding him, and his friend beyond the clearing.  
Zack breaks free of the medic treating him, tries to rush to Sebastian, but is stopped by Constable Young before he can reach his friend. Zack's words float over the distance. "Okay, I believe you man, just breathe," Zack calmly responds as his friend continues to wave the gun. Seb's breaths are uneven, shallow and heavy.  
"Why won't you go away?" Seb asks, sobbing and yelling, tears streaming down his face. "Why won't this go away?!" he pleads.


	10. Chapter 10

"I just want this to be over!" Sebastian's cry pierces the still night.

"You want to pull that trigger?" Constable Braddock begins to establish a reality check with the troubled youth. "Do you know what actually happens when you do? I can tell you, Sebastian. I've seen it, I've felt it."

"Sam," Sergeant Parker cautions his officer. "We need to de-escalate, not hasten his decisions to go somewhere we can't afford to be. Scorpio isn't a necessity here."  
Braddock acknowledges his boss's commands with a slight nod as he proceeds to impress the severity of the situation to the boy in front of him.

"I've felt it," Sam repeats. "You fall over into your own blood after becoming dizzy and lightheaded. What's worse is that bullets aren't so quick and easy. Even if you think you can raise that gun up to your head-"  
Here Sam is very careful to stop himself and not to say that he doesn't believe Seb won't raise the gun for the fear of challenging him. Team One begins to tighten the perimeter as close as they can to contain the situation.  
"I can't take it anymore, any of it, all of it. I'm done here," Sebastian says simply, effortlessly, as if this sentence is the only truth in the world.

Zack can't hear what is happening between his best friend and the SRU constable. All Zack knows is that he put a GPS locator on Seb's phone, he followed Seb to this forest after phoning in the police, who called the freakin' Strategic Response Unit...  
 _I did the right thing. I did what had to be done to help my friend, even if it means he'll never want to speak with me again...Oh, god, what if he never speaks again because...? No, that won't happen, it can't happen. These guys are trained, they can help, then why do they look so nervous?  
_ Zack begins to stand up and attempts to move away from the medic treating him before he realizes there is an IV drip going into his arm. _Saline solution_ _. The medic must've put that in while I was distracted._

"Really, I'm okay," Zack protests. "I just need to go see my friend."  
"I'm sorry, Mr. Adams, you have to stay here. Your friend will be joining us soon," the medic says while placing his hand over the boy's arm, reminding him of the condition he's in. "I know this is hard. Please try to relax and rest." Steve remains by Zack's side, acting as the boy's temporary guardian and waiting for another to care for.

"Look at Zack. Look at your friend. He came out here to help you, and if he can't he'll feel the same as you -upset, confused, full of guilt. He will stand on the ground that you stand on now, questioning himself over and over again, wondering where he went wrong. I know you think that having me and my team here is another burden you placed on yourself and an inconvenience to everyone around you. Sebastian, that's not true. We came here to help, Sebastian, because we care about you." Sam steps just inches away from the gun that's firmly held in the hand of a young man who has no business holding it.  
 _Come on. I believe in you, Sebastian, I know you can do this. Please, I'm standing here in front of you, waiting for you. Please, give me the gun. Let me lift this burden from you. I may not be able to lift all the weight of the world off your shoulders, but I can do this. Once we get past this, we can get through anything. I promise.  
_

Sebastian gives the constable a once-over before letting out a scream of raw pain. He's broken, he's aching, his body is shaking uncontrollably. The tears have stopped running their course from eyes to cheeks, but the sweat is visibly pouring out of his body despite the cold temperature. The desperate urge, the need to collapse on the forest floor and give in to his mind is more persistent than the blood barely pumping through Sebastian's veins. His eyes rove across his surroundings, quickly settling on Zack's face so close yet so far away. _  
_

 _Sebastian turned the light off, the blinds shut and pulled all the way down. In one hand rested the bottle of extra strength acetaminophen his father had bought the previous week. In the other, a bottle of scotch held loosely around the neck. With his father at a business conference and his mother still at work, Sebastian didn't bother to think about locking his bedroom door. He paced back and forth, filled with angst and confusion. The words waged war in his mind, saying 'you can fight this!' and 'give it up!' He took a deep swig of the scotch and threw the bottle of pills against the wall in frustration. Damn it! Silent tears began to leak from his eyes as he gritted his teeth.  
Sebastian crossed the room and stopped at his bed to pick up his phone. Scrolled through the contacts list, realized that although there were many names on the list, there were none who could help him now. Sebastian's tears had formed an ocean, surrounding and drowning him. A scream escaped his lips, then another, and another until he couldn't handle the sound of his own voice anymore. He picked up the pill bottle, popped the cap, and poured the pills into his palm. Tossed a dozen or so down with the alcohol and waited. Left the open bottle on the bed, sat on the floor and continued to drink. The scotch burned the lump in his throat where the pills had been temporarily stuck as the room began to turn...  
_ _"Sebastian? Seb, can you hear me?"  
_ _"Ma'am, I need you to step away from your son. We need to get him to the ER, get his stomach pumped."  
_ _"BP's 60 over 50."  
"Sebastian?!"  
_

"Sebastian," Sam tries again. The youth had stared into space for a moment while the constable's sergeant gave him some more information. Winnie had called both sets of parents to the Strategic Response Unit's headquarters and had accessed the medical records. Sebastian's information didn't make much sense; although he had tried to achieve 'the deep sleep', he expressed extreme guilt and regret afterwards. While Sebastian neither confirmed nor denied what had occurred, his mother vehemently insisted it was indeed an accident. The boy confused his sports drink for the bottle of scotch on the counter, his headache aided his forgetfulness and he simply took a few too many acetaminophen. When asked whether or not Sebastian knew of anyone with a gun, she shook her head. Her husband turned pale and said one word: "Matt." Wordy completed his visit with Matthew Quinn and had a cruiser drive him to the SRU while he headed back to the forest.  
The teenager remains rooted in place, teary-eyed and trembling. _I can't. I can't give him the gun. If I do that, I have to go back. I can't do that. I can't stay here. Why is everyone still here? Why didn't they lead Zack away, have him forget he ever knew me?_

"I know about Kevin-"  
"Don't say his name!" Sebastian responds, much to everyone's relief.  
"-and I know about what happened to you last year. You're right, I can't imagine what that must have been like. I do know that losing your friend is painful, and losing him the way you did," Sam shakes his head, "no one should ever have to go through pain like that. What I do know is that you are alive, Sebastian."  
"I'm just deadweight," the teenager responds sluggishly. The lack of nutrients in his system, the lack of sleep and the abundance of despair are becoming too much for his body to handle.  
"I know you feel that way-"  
"What? You're going to tell me that what I'm feeling is wrong? You said it yourself, you don't understand," Sebastian says, dejected.  
"I understand what it feels like to be trapped in your own mind," Sam says, leading Sebastian to look up at him. "I really do, and that's why I am here. I want you to let your hand be free from that weapon and I want to help you however I can. I believe in you, and I know that this can't be easy, but it can be harder not to try. Stay with me, Sebastian. These feelings, what you are experiencing right now, I need you to know that they are okay. The feelings aren't going to disappear in an instant. It's going to be a rough journey to take, and I have faith that you can make it. You can fight through this. Look at me, Seb. You can always keep fighting." There is a moment of still silence before Sebastian ventures a response.

"Okay?" Sebastian hesitates. _How is any of this okay? I'm standing in the forest at night, holding my uncle's gun, surrounded by some kind of SWAT team while my best friend is sitting on the back of an ambulance and this is all my fault and I can't go back I can't go back I can't_  
Sebastian's head is pounding, his legs are on the verge of collapsing _no, can't fall down, can't go back to them, can't go back there_ and suddenly, the Colt drops to the ground. It is almost like Sebastian is merely an observer of this scene; he stands his ground with a dazed look on his face. Sam doesn't make a move to pick up the weapon, instead he stretches his open arms to Sebastian's free hands. At this gesture, something clicks in his Sebastian's mind and he stumbles into Sam's embrace.  
"It's okay, Sebastian. It's okay, I promise," Sam tells the tired youth. Steve gets the go-ahead to move, and rushes to Sebastian with a stretcher and his bag. Throughout the checkup, Sebastian's tired fingers refuse to leave Constable Braddock's sleeve. The sleeve is his anchor, his lifeline.  
"Thank you," Sebastian whispers through his tears. _Thank you for my life._


End file.
